lindacostain

Cri de Coeur

Trigger warning: I expect that readers who have witnessed or experienced abuse will find reminders in the last post and this one.

Dear Gordon –

I am writing this – as it’s no good trying to talk to you – you get into such rages-

I cannot go on like this- I want to know definitely what I am supposed to be in this house & I am certainly not treated as a wife, by any means of the word- neither am I a housekeeper – I don’t get a living wage – You seem to think I am just a puppet- but I am not going to be treated as such– You either change your tactics- or I am going to do something about it.

You don’t seem to realize what I have done for you, what I have given up for you- & what I have gone through & am going through now – on account of you – You think you are so kind & generous – & yet you can be as cruel & as tormenting as the devil himself– Not only do you deny me the right of having my sister to stay in my own home a fortnight, after not having seen her for 15 years- but you call me names & say things to me that no decent man would think of saying to his wife-

What is it? Are you anxious to be rid of me? If you are – why not say so? But no- you’re too cunning for that – you won’t tell me to go, but you’re always jibing at me, & telling me “If I want to go I can go”– that’s the way you think you will get out of it – I tell you Gordon you’re driving me mad- you’re cruel through & through & just love to hurt me as much as you can- It is now nearly 2 weeks since we have spoken to each other – please break your silence & tell me definitely one way or the other what you mean to do – I cannot go on like this-

Carol Ewing was 53 when she left her husband. I find it hard to imagine how this undated (and unsent?) letter survived amidst the letters she lovingly saved from her daughter, but there is evidence that she reread and organized those letters, and that Cyn, her daughter, also read through the collection in her old age. So, since they did not destroy this letter, I am sharing it with the world. Imagine the balancing act Carol had to keep up year after year, to live with Gordon’s uncertain moods, yet manage to keep them from seriously affecting her daughter, who grew up (and away) into an independent confident woman who lived a happy life. Carol made the first step towards 20 years of happiness for herself by leaving him in 1947.

Marriage Break-up

The week after the Royal Wedding, changes began in the Ewing family, changes that had been years in the making but which moved swiftly in the months that followed. The marriage between Cynthia’s parents, Carol and Gordon Ewing, was not a happy one. I have said before that I suspect my grandfather Gordon suffered from depression, or bi-polar disorder, and in his sixties things seemed to get worse. His wife was the one who bore the brunt of his behaviour. At the end of 1947, their troubles came to a head, and Carol decided to leave him, coming to live with Cynthia in Cambridge.

Eventually Gordon was diagnosed with hardening of the arteries of the brain. I don’t know whether he had vascular dementia or had had strokes, but within two years of his wife leaving him he had been institutionalized.

In Cynthia’s late seventies, she wrote a short story “The Straw That Broke” that fictionalized the break-up, giving a good picture of the sort of life Carol and Gordon led and what their daughter thought of it. Then there is a letter from Carol to Gordon- probably not sent to or read by him- that shows clearly the psychological abuse she endured and the toll it was taking. Cyn’s letters to her mother that follow are supportive – and worried!- as Carol goes through the process of splitting up the home and moving. But by April 1948, Cyn and Carol were happily sharing a flat in Cambridge and enjoying it- and there was no need for letters between them!

Luckily by then Cyn had met Cec Costain, her future husband, so that 1948 is illuminated by a few of his letters to his mother, and holiday postcards to Cyn, as well as photographs from a happy Cambridge courtship. In the summer of 1949, they began a much happier marriage than Carol and Gordon’s, honeymoon letters were sent to Carol, and then they all left Cambridge, scattered, and-

the letters continued.

THE STRAW THAT BROKE

“Are you coming swimming Katie?” asked my College roommate.

I hesitated.

“No- you go ahead. I just got a letter from my Mother. She’s leaving my Father.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” as she quickly grabbed a rolled up towel and ran out the door. Parents separating was not an everyday thing in the 1930s and she was glad to leave.

I looked at the letter again. I wasn’t surprised in some ways- I’d been glad enough to leave home and my Father’s dictatorial ways myself, but after 20 years of seeing my mother trying to please, pacify and on very rare occasions, rebel, I had got used to the status quo. I must write I thought. But no, she says that she is going to her cousin Dorothy in London – I’ll phone Dorothy tomorrow. I looked at the familiar writing. A letter every week at boarding school – a letter every week since I came to University. What did I really know of my Mother as a person? A loving Mother, a devoted member of a close family and a much younger wife of a stern husband.

When I was a child one of my favourite ways to spend a dull winter afternoon was to persuade my Mother to open the big cabin trunk which stood on the upstairs landing. It was cold but the excitement of seeing the fascinating contents made me forget the unwarmed landing. In the trunk was the satin wedding dress, mellowed to a deep ivory colour; evening dresses with demure necklines and elbow length sleeves made of silk embroidered with glittering beads, or pastel coloured georgette trimmed with ruffles. There were evening shoes to match with Louis heels and long pointed toes, beaded evening bags and delicate fans decorated with sequins. For me it was just a glorious afternoon of dressing up. I wonder what my Mother felt as she saw the lovely things never worn in England, remembered back to the time the trunk was first packed.

As the daughter of the British Resident in a corner of the Empire, just returned from Finishing school in Europe life must have seemed like a big exciting parcel filled with thrilling little packages in bright paper and silk ribbons, all waiting to be opened. Into the storybook setting of tropical sunshine and waving palm trees swept the handsome prince. The newly arrived Cultural Attaché was charming, good looking, travelled and was single!

“What happened next?” I would ask when I was told this story.

“Well” my Mother would say “My Mother thought he was too old for me, and Dad wondered why a young man had been moved so often but I wanted to get married – it was SO romantic.” and she would laugh at her 19-year-old self. “We got engaged and then we got married and not very long afterwards we came to England.”

How could my mother know that the charm could be turned on at will; that the friendliness could change to cold dislike if his opinions were challenged; or that irritability could become rage?

On returning to England my Father left the Foreign Service and joined a business firm. In the provincial city where we lived my parents at first knew no one. My Father’s work bored him and he had no hobbies. How quickly my Mother’s dreams must have dissolved, living in a small house in a suburb of identical houses, with one young untrained maid coming daily to clean. The shopping for someone who had never bought a loaf of bread; the cooking of three meals a day for someone who had only been taught to bake a cake for tea; the whole bewildering process of running a house with a husband and eventually a child. I remember in my teens realizing that no one had ever given my Mother a Cookbook.

“But what did you do Mum?”

“I just tried and tried again- not always very successfully. I had a nice neighbour, Mrs. Halliday- do you remember her? She helped me a lot, but I still made lots of mistakes.”

“I remember one mistake that I liked. The steamed puddings that sank in the middle and that was the part I liked! I was sorry when you learn to make them properly!”

With my Father’s boredom came depression and through my childhood the periods when he sat in his armchair staring at the fire for days on end while my mother tried to get him to eat or persuaded him to look at a paper or go for a walk. I would return from school, creeping into the house praying that he would be “happy” again.

As the years went by I escaped to boarding school and we moved to a new house. In that move the cabin trunk and its contents disappeared. My father was no sentimentalist. I began to want my independence and holiday times at home became more difficult as I rebelled at the strict rules. However, once I was away from home I was free.

Through the years my mother had found a few good women friends, but visits from her family were frowned upon and contact with his family was minimal. I realize that she had developed a “peace at any price” attitude; they went where he wanted for their rare holidays; they entertained as little as possible; outings to theatre and concerts dwindled. I got used to it but did my mother?

When I went to London to see her that weekend she told me that she had decided to go and live with her unmarried sister in Mexico. It seemed like a very long way away.

“Mum” I said “What finally made you leave?”

“He called me a parasite.” she said.

The beginning of the critique from her writing class. Spot on!

Cynthia fictionalized the minutia of dates, jobs, and places in telling the story but the details of the relationship were completely true. I remember Cyn telling me about my grandmother’s ending the marriage. The final question was the same- “What finally made you leave?” The answer even simpler.

“He told me I was useless,” she said.

When Cyn next saw her father, as she was collecting the packed boxes from the house during her holiday, she found him baffled. After all, he had called her things like that for years…

Coming of Age in the Twentieth Century

My mother introduced me, at the age of fifteen, bored and disgruntled at our rented summer cottage with nothing new to read, to Georgette Heyer, then coming out in paperback. I fell in love with her books, read my mother’s copies, and joined my friend Janet in collecting all we could. The fact that Cynthia had had a ball in her honour when she was 21 put her firmly in the Georgette Heyer class in my mind. One of the exotic stories I remembered from childhood was Cynthia’s coming of age ball. She had been the focus of family and friends on Her Day – the closest we would ever come was the high school graduation dance in a hotel when we were 18, where we would as always be in competition with the popular and more sophisticated ‘in’ girls. She may not have had A Season or been Presented as they had in the Regency- I didn’t know or care about 20^th century debutantes- but she had gone to dances and had one of her own. However, Cynthia’s vague allusions to her 21^st birthday suggested it had not been a night of complete pleasure.

I remember as an adult asking questions to try to get a handle on the class she lived in- was it common in her circle to have a Coming-of-Age ball? Did Jessie Muir, a doctor’s daughter as well, but one whose job after completing school was to manage her widowed father’s house, surgery, and phone, have a ball? Did Dottie, who shared my mother’s domestic science training and also became a teacher, have a ball? Did boys have an equivalent celebration? I got no clear answer. It could be that Gordon wanted to indulge his daughter and she was not appreciative; that her feelings towards him were affected by the difference of opinion over her college training; or that events in the future coloured her opinion of her father as she looked back on what, at the time, she enjoyed. I have no idea how big this dance was, or whether it was a success. All I know is that what she remembered were the flaws in the evening, not the enjoyment.
(And, by contrast, what do I remember of my high school graduation dance? Well, not much. It was the end of the sixties- hippies and free love were cool, dating/pairing off/marrying was not, really, except that if you weren’t in a relationship, you knew you were tagging behind as always. But at my life stage and academic level, I was not ready for any of that- along with the rest of my high school class, all 5 of the Grade 13 classes, I was off to university with at least 3 years of that before we would consider settling down. The idea was to go away to university first year and snag a date for your high school graduation in October. I had no interest in that so I begged my cousin Bruce to be my escort and he very kindly obliged. We returned for the graduation weekend- Thanksgiving?- had the usual tedious ceremony in rented gowns, and with close friends, organized ourselves for the evening.

I remember my dress: floor length, A-line, sleeveless, made of a strange material in a bluey-green aqua pattern with sparkling pale silver threads sort of laminated on a spongey foam backing, made by my mother and never worn again that I remember. (The foam disintegrated in time, leaving a nasty mess among other carefully preserved garments of the era in cotton or silk.) In fact, I remember very little- we went downtown to a hotel, we were all dressed up, we had familiar or unfamiliar dates, and it was awkward. I can’t remember that we fundraised the way graduation classes in schools I taught in did, so did we pay for the whole thing ourselves? If so, it was the done thing to do so, because everyone was there. There were round tables and food, there was no drink since we were all under age and no surreptitious drinking around me anyway, there was a band, we must have danced and caught up on each other’s lives, but my main feeling was that I had moved on. I loved my new university life at Trent where I wore blue jeans all the time instead of the incessant pressure of dress-to-look-good of high school, I had new friends who liked me, and I didn’t need my high school acquaintances any more. Bruce and my friend Janet would always be a part of my life, but that was the last I saw of most of those people, and I have to say I didn’t miss them.

I felt sorry for those, Janet among them, who had stayed at home in Ottawa and went to Carleton to university- scurrying around those tunnels greeting known faces from high school and only gradually finding better friends in other places. Living in residence at Trent had acquainted me at once with all the girls on my corridor, and helped me to become good friends with people in my college that I liked. Classes were small so within weeks, I had acquaintances in all the other colleges and knew my professors well enough to talk to. My life expanded in every direction- but enough about me. Maybe my poor memory explains Cynthia’s vagueness- she didn’t remember much either.)

I don’t remember her description of her dress, but she did tell us about the cold water thrown on her appearance by her friend as Cyn appeared in all her glory. Meeting at her house was the party she would go to the dance with- her escort, and her close friend, as well as her parents. I don’t remember if it was Nancy, Jessie or Dottie, but the girl friend cried out as she twirled in front of them, “Oh Cynnie, you haven’t washed your neck!” (This entailed a pause in the story while little Canadians were given an explanation of coal fires and soot in 30s England, and an assurance that she had washed in a lavish bath and was totally mortified by this comment.) Even when it was discovered to be a shadow, not dirt, and the friend had apologized, and they had all moved on for a gay evening, it was the humiliation of the moment that Cyn remembered.

Was this the dance where the skirt of her dress was so tight that when she kicked a little too enthusiastically, she knocked herself right off her feet and landed on the floor? As her 1939 Travel Diary and her letters show, dancing was one of her favourite things.

I’m not sure if it was this night or a later event, but one of her friends was staying at the Ewings’ and going to a dance with Cyn. They went, they had fun, I assume they separated after since they had different escorts- and the friend got home before Gordon’s curfew while Cyn did not. That meant that Cyn was locked out huddling in the cold, the household was in bed, and the friend had to feel her way down in the dark through the unfamiliar house to let Cyn in. Another example of Gordon’s peculiar control.

This underlines the difference between the position of women in the 30s and mine. My mother and I both were privileged. In my 20s, with teaching credentials and a teaching job, (having been given the gift of my education and the old car by my parents- much nicer than Gordon, I may add), I made enough in the 1970s to rent a one-bedroom apartment; run an old car to get me to my job, and drive away home or to friends in cities three to five hours away on weekends; go to visit my grandmother Carol in St. Vincent in March Break; and generally be independent. Cynthia, also a teacher, obviously did not. (I did have trouble finding a job for more than that one year- hence the adventure of CUSO in Nigeria 1978-80. Furthermore, I missed my university friends, finding myself out of step with the young couples at my school. But back to my mother.) Until the end of the war, through 8 years of teaching, she lived at home with her parents. And at least her father’s diktat had given her training, and her profession opened the way for her post-war exchange. Her friend Jessie had lived at home and acted as her father’s housekeeper and receptionist after her mother’s death- until he married again and did not need her any more. The solution? Early marriage.

When she moved to Cambridge, Cynthia seemed to have a room in a house shared with women colleagues from her school, and did not rent a flat in a house until her mother joined her. Was it the salary or the culture? Unmarried women in the 1930s may not have needed chaperoning at this stage of the twentieth century, but they did not seem to live alone. My mother’s letters are full of older pairs of women sharing a life- lesbian couples or hard-up friends? The Great War had wiped out much of a generation of young men but working women were not paid equally- a thing we’re still coping with one hundred years later. And women teachers in the 20th century always have been held to a high standard of moral behaviour- along with the lower salaries. (My Canadian grandmother had more in common with my mother than either of them perhaps realized, coming from different generations in different countries.) But Cyn’s exchange year in America had given her experience of working in a different culture among people with different ideas- as my years teaching in Nigeria did me- which broadened her world view, as well as boosting her self-confidence. This maturity made her later immigration much easier than the experiences of many of the British war brides trying to cope with life in a strange new country.

Cyn, at different stages of her life in different cities and countries, seems surrounded by friends and acquaintances in her own age group doing the exactly same thing as she- working, dancing and holidaying, then slogging through the war, all the time conscious that other people were suffering more than she, since saying goodbye to friends who did not return was not the same as death or widowhood.

But her post-war generation faced a different kind of Coming of Age. The Nuremberg Trials attempted to establish a universal agreement about the responsibilities of states and individuals, and the consequences of abuses. The world became more conscious of global connections, the UN established the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and in England, post war elections meant a Labour government moved to a better kind of attitude towards its citizens, instituting safety nets such as the National Health and changes in education and social services. Canada followed, with the 1949 baby bonus, for example, which was sent out in the mother’s name, and Cynthia would benefit. Again, she and her generation were all doing the same thing: getting married, getting pregnant, creating the world-wide Baby Boom- my generation- and, after she had emigrated, falling off on the letter-writing as she and her English friends produced offspring and got on with their lives far apart from each other, but still parallel.

It’s a pleasure to follow them into the post war era.

November 23 1947 : The Royal Wedding

I want to start by introducing Jennifer Robson’s book ‘The Gown’. It is described on the cover as ‘A Novel of the Royal Wedding’, but it is actually about the making of the Princess Elizabeth’s wedding dress in Norman Hartnell’s workrooms and the lives of the women who embroider it. It gives such a clear picture of what the ordinary people in England were going through- all the details alluded to in Cynthia’s previous letters from Toledo about the year of 1947 are there- the awful cold of the hard winter with fuel shortages; the mention of swap meets for new clothes, which explains the secondhand clothes Cyn sent for her mother to share around; the food shortages, and the delight in parcels from abroad- and the feeling of the people for the Royal Wedding as a time of celebration after the long war and the years of difficulty that followed. I enjoyed reading it, and- spoiler alert- I think Cyn would have agreed that a life in Canada after this period was a better one!

19 Warkworth St.,

Cambridge.

Sunday

Dearest Mummy & Daddy,

I hope that you are having the same marvellous mild weather that we are having down here. It is amazing to think that at the beginning of the week we were freezing and expecting snow for the wedding, & now it is like spring. And now to tell you about the wedding, and how we got on!

Pam and Jessie went with me of course, and we left Cambridge on the 6.30 bus on Wed. evening. We were all bundled up in warm clothes & boots etc. & I had my radio, & Jessie the shooting stick & Pam a string bag of food! We arrived in London at 9.30 & went to the Mall & saw the Palace all floodlit, but there were masses & masses of people, so we didn’t go right up. We spent the night at Jessie Muir’s & in the morning got up at 5 a.m. & had breakfast & were away by 6 a.m. Jessie came with us & drove us in in the car which was a tremendous help as we arrived in the centre of the town at 6:30. We then walked to the Mall & found lots of people there, but not as many as we’d feared. We decided to get as close to the Palace as possible & walked up & got a very good view at the top of the Mall right opposite the Palace.

We couldn’t get on the wall but part of the grass was raised in a sort of terrace there & we stood on the edge of that. We were there by 7 a.m. & passed the time by sitting on the shooting sticks, eating sandwiches, listening to the radio, & talking to the people around about – we had a very nice Dr. & his wife from Belfast behind us. Our first real excitement was the sight of the Horse Guards riding down Constitution Hill. They were a most beautiful sight- some with scarlet tunics & white plumes & others in navy tunics & scarlet plumes- all with their shining breastplates & black horses. Before they arrived though, we had some military bands go past & soldiers line the route, but the Horse Guards were the first part of the real proceedings. After they had gone into the Courtyard we saw many of the guests driving by in their cars. Some went straight to the Abbey & the Royalties to the Palace- the latter had badges of crowns on the cars. We saw Mr. Eden go by & quite a few of the bridesmaids, & Lord Louis & Lady Mountbatten. Then down Birdcage walk came the coaches drawn by the Windsor greys & all the outriders in scarlet & drove into the Palace courtyard. By this time we had got a mass of people on the slope in front of us & besides being squashed, Jessie and I being small weren’t seeing any too well! However, when the procession began at 11.0, with the Queen & Princess Margaret I got a glimpse of the latter but none of the Foreign Royalties who came afterwards did I see at all. Then Philip went past in a car – I didn’t see him! – and finally the King & the Princess – whom I didn’t see either! I was quite disheartened, particularly as Pam of course, could see everything, but however I switched my radio on & we listened to the commentary & I thought of you & all the other people listening too. You have no idea how many people heard my little radio, everyone round about turned & listened & after the Service when they played “God Save the King” we could see people for yards around taking off their hats & the police standing at attention & saluting. It was wonderful being able to listen & all the people were so grateful to me & thanked me so much, that I felt simply repaid for the trouble of carrying it around. Their gratitude took a practical form too, as they pushed me forward onto the top of some stone steps facing the Mall, & I had a wonderful view of everyone coming back! It was doubly nice after my first disappointment, & I saw Elizabeth & Philip very clearly; all the bridesmaids; the King & Queen; Queen Mary- she got a tremendous cheer; the Duke & Duchess of Gloucester; Duchess of Kent; Princess Juliana (looking very nice, I was surprised to see!); the Mountbattens; the little King of Iraqq, who got a cheer & a laugh; & the two little Princes who were pages were as sweet as could be, in a coach by themselves standing at the window waving their hands & laughing. I saw lots of other people I didn’t recognize & I cheered everyone like mad & had a wonderful time! We stayed where we were, when all the crowd surged thro’ a double police cordon & mounted policemen, up the Mall, & to the Palace & when they came out onto the balcony, the whole of that great place was crammed with people. We had binoculars & saw them, & even without we could see well, & Elizabeth’s dress just gleamed through the grey day, so that there was no difficulty in knowing which was she, & of course I cheered till I was hoarse!

Getting away was the most crowded part, but we wended our way slowly but surely to Victoria, & to the bus station, where we had tea & sandwiches & caught the 3.30 bus back to Cambridge – tired & footsore, but it was well worth it – I’d have done it over again the next day! I forgot to tell you that we were so hot at times we hardly knew what to do, & my boots were like little ovens! However better than being cold!

This is all about the Wedding, but I know you’ll be wondering if I saw anything at all! Thank you for your letter, Mummy, – I’ll be writing again soon.

With much love to you both

from

Cynthia

Cyn’s oral account of their royal wedding viewing contained more dramatic details. She described how the crowd around was appreciative of her radio, and after the wedding service was over and they were expecting the return of the coaches, a voice from the crowd came, “Look ‘ere, let the little lady ‘oo let us listen to ‘er radio get a good view! Come on luv…”. And they shoved her and the others up into prime positions as she described in the letter!

A Wonderful Year

With these photos, we have come to the end of Cyn’s year of adventure as an Exchange Teacher. She had worked hard in a different country, both at her teaching and her speaking engagements, had made friends and had travelled and seen more of America. She had made a success of her position as somewhat of a local celebrity, and was returning home with more self-confidence, and a lot of new clothes! She sailed for England in August 1947 on the Queen Elizabeth, (apparently with Rex Harrison on board?), but no letters exist telling us about her arrival back; her attempts to be 1/2 way honest with the Customs; her speech to the Gosforth audience at home, her father’s opinion of his delayed Christmas present- the magazine subscription to ‘Holiday’; or her managing to find a place to live in Cambridge before the new school year started.

Having missed two important weddings while in America, those of her friends Irene and Nan, the next letter surviving describes the Royal Wedding of Princess Elizabeth and Prince Phillip, in November 1947, which Cyn had said she was determined not to miss! This public event was the start of a few years of private change for Cynthia and her mother, with her own wedding in the offing…

Long Beach July 1947

July 27 1947

27th July. 1947.

Dearest Mummy,

At long last I am getting down to writing you a letter to yourself, and answering your letters. It is awful that I should take such an age to do it, now that I am having such a lovely long holiday, but I think my laziness has come into its own again & I find I have the greatest difficulty in doing anything! Til & Lois keep saying, well what would you like to do your last few days, & I say, just sit in the house & do nothing!

First of all, I am just delighted to know that you have got my parcel safely, & that you like the things. I was getting quite worried when the parcel hadn’t come, because you were relying on it so, and I thought how awful if it does arrive and you don’t like the dress or anything! However, you really sound as if you did, and although it isn’t really what I wanted to get you, it is summery & pretty & wedding-y so I hope that you have a lovely day to wear it. I wrote to Nan & Mrs. Allen today, & I was so glad too, to hear that Nan had got 2 of her parcels anyway. By now perhaps the wedding present has arrived – I have an awful feeling they’ll have a hideous amount of duty to pay, but perhaps they won’t mind, as a Nan has been lucky about getting her other things free. I didn’t really think that Lois’ things would fit Nan, but I think it is a good idea to send them to Mary, if she thinks they’re any good. I’m glad she liked the mac. – it is kind of oldish but when it is cleaned, it will probably look better. Did Maud like her silk stockings & Nan her nylons? You mentioned her bathing suit- I thought it was a honey, didn’t you? – and her dress but not the cardigan – I hope that fitted it all right. I am sorry that Lois’ shoes were a bit tight for you – perhaps the cobbler man would stretch them. How Lois got them on I don’t know because she takes a bigger size than me! Try & get someone to take a snap of you all dressed up for the wedding so that I can see- I think you’ll look very smart, Mrs. Ewing! I was tickled at your remarks re. the funny little white hat – I thought you might have a few doubts about it, but I’m glad that you got it so that it suited you and I’m looking forward to seeing you in it. I shall be thinking of you all so hard next Saturday – you must go & have a lovely time and remember everything to tell me and have every other drink for me & kiss all the men twice– once for you & once for me!

I wrote to Nan as I told you, & in N.Y. I sent her a wedding card, & on Thurs. I will send her a cable – I have spent quite a while this afternoon thinking up snappy messages!! I think my one to Irene was so good that I find it difficult to surpass!! I wonder if Irene’s & Dottie’s parcels have come yet. I do hope poor Dottie gets hers all right this time with no duty to pay, as she has been unlucky before. I haven’t heard from Irene for quite a while, but I had the nicest letter from Dottie the other day, welcoming me back & saying that she was going to have a Welcome Home Party for me, & also that she had it all set up for me to speak to the Gosforth Inner Wheel! So it looks as if you’re going to hear your daughter make a speech after all! I also had a nice welcoming letter from Pam Hapgood in Cambridge, & even one from the old Howlett! Whilst I’m talking about Inner Wheels though, that reminds me of Amy! and her crazy idea of Nan being offended at her! At the time of Nan’s engagement she wrote & told me about it, & how Charlie wouldn’t let her send an engagement present. I thought of mentioning it to Nan but then I thought I better keep out of it so I didn’t even allude to it in writing back to Amy. Isn’t she silly sometimes!? I was sorry you didn’t have such a nice time on the river, but I was pleased that you had at last been having some really nice weather & I do hope it continues for the wedding. Whadyaknow about Liz & Phil?! That’s what the radio announcers in N.Y. have been calling our Royal Couple! Of course everyone over here was tickled to bits & the papers gave blow-by-blow descriptions of the courtship etc.! I was as thrilled as could be & all the Long Beach folk & Hugh were greatly amused at me & said you’d think she was my sister! Well, darn it, this will be the 1st wedding I’ll be home for, so I’ll go or bust!

I’m answering your letters now so expect some skipping around! I was so amused to hear of our old friend Matthew from Gosforth now being curate at St. Luke’s. He should be a vast improvement on some of the peculiar curates St. Luke’s has had, and I hope he likes it. I remember seeing him in Tilley’s a while back & noticing how grey he looked. I wonder if he & Mr. McC. will get on all right – I expect Matthew is very tactful! You said about Mary Nutley being there & having a lousy fortune told – poor Mary. I never got around to phoning Mary Johnson, but maybe I will when I’m in N.Y. again – maybe! There seem to be so many things to do & anyway I am nearly a pauper now as I have been buying presents for everyone & have just about enough to get me to N.Y. & that’s all! I am living on Til & Lois these 2 weeks & they keep trying to press money on me, but I’m not quite as hard up as that! I warned them in Long B. I’d come back penniless, so they are expecting it – before I left I gave them all presents- Margs a beach bag (she chose it) Monie an English cup & saucer (she collects them) A. Ettie bowls for her MixMaster (she’d broken hers) A. Moo a little teapot for 2! I sent C’Zelma & Em a little English china teapot with roses on, as a thank you & they were thrilled to bits with it. C’Z has tea in the afternoon so she will use it! I am not going to be able to get Til & Lois anything, but I thought I could maybe send them something English- what, Heaven knows!!

I was interested to hear the news about the Sheedys, & surprised about Denis not being at Nan’s wedding – but Winnie will be there I suppose. Denis is quite getting around nowadays, isn’t he? I haven’t written back to Joe yet – I wonder whether he’ll find a nice wife in Ireland?! Well of course the news of Joan Greenwood’s perfidy was a great disappointment to me! At the time I got your letter I felt quite upset about it, because I have felt so pleased & counted on it so & was looking forward to having a nice flat. However, I’ve got over it now & it can’t be helped, & Anne is sweet to help me. I will write to her – I haven’t heard from her by the way- and thank her, & anyway I’m sure she’ll find me someplace to go to, & then I can look around. She said that Jessie F. seemed quite annoyed when she heard I was to share with Joan but she already shares a nice place with Joan Watkins, so I don’t see there’s room for me there & anyway I’d rather not if possible! I hadn’t got Joan’s material for her, so that is one good thing. I looked at some in N.Y. but the thought of spending so many of my precious dollars just killed me & I put it off & now I’m so pleased! The sad story of Lady? with her mink coat is going to make me into an honest woman – well – comparatively! I’ll be kind of 1/2 and 1/2! I was tickled at you buying 2 new hats in 1 week – then getting another from me! My, my, Mrs. Ewing- you’re going to outshine me as to headgears!

I was so pleased to hear that the “Holiday”s had come at last, & I’m sure it will be all right now. I wonder if Pop really enjoys them or if he reads them & grouches at the same time!! Anyway it will be something for him to do! By the way, I know you will be heartbroken, but I truly had no money left to buy net for the curtains! I intended to get some if I had any left after buying presents, but I never did. Ain’t I a bad girl!! You knew how much I loved the thought of buying it, didn’t you!! Anyway, I didn’t buy your net & you broke my poor little pink cup so we are quits! Don’t worry though – it can’t be helped, & if it is useable that is better than nothing. We’re both bad girls!

I called Mrs. Pasquier this week & I am going to have lunch with her tomorrow. She & Mr. P are going to be in N.Y. around 10th of Aug. & are going to invite me & Miss Marie Stoll out to dinner so it will be rather fun meeting her with the Pasquiers there. I won’t mind at all, whereas I wasn’t at all keen on meeting her alone!

Now about your photo – I think it is really lovely, Mummy. It doesn’t flatter you but it is just like you – pretty & sweet & nice. I like it so much – far & away the loveliest & best picture I’ve ever seen of you. All the people at Long B. loved it & Hugh liked it too, & I was so proud to show it to Til & Lois & C’ Zelma & Em & Grandma. They all think we look alike & they think you are as pretty as can be. I haven’t got a frame, as I was kind of scared of getting it broken & anyway I can get a nice one at home. Thank you so much for having it taken money – I think it’s beautiful.

By the way, I forgot to tell you, Til’s son Bill is married again! On 4th July to a girl called Jan, age 18, living in Florida. He just wrote & told his mother, & that is all she knows, & of course he never even mentioned being interested in anyone when he was here. Til has had a snap of her since & she looks all right! But isn’t he the limit?

Don’t worry about my being hard up – I forgot to tell you I have some English money, so once I am on the ship I will be OK & I will have plenty to get me home. Did I ever tell you that I thought your W.P. to Nan & Dick was lovely? An electric blanket indeed! Even if it is small it doesn’t matter, & I’m sure they’ll love them- I told Nan we had her cold feet on our minds!!! You asked about Jessie H. in one of your letters – I have never heard a thing but Anne tells me, Jessie F. tells her, that Jessie H. told her that she had written to me twice! Well, I never got them! I’m sorry in a way, ‘cos I’d like to take Zinnia something, but I’m just not going to- meanie!

I must stop now, as I don’t want this letter to be overweight. I will write to you & Pop tomorrow & tell you of my week’s doings- nothing really much! On Tuesday Til & Lois & I are to go to the Nauts to dinner, but otherwise no engagements & I leave for N.Y. next weekend.

I’ll soon be home now!

Lots and lots of love

from Cyn

July 7 1947

Curley Street

7th July 1947.

Dearest Mummy & Daddy,

The days seem to be going so quickly that before I realize it I will be on the Queen Elizabeth & home again. I was awfully sorry to hear that you had a nasty cold, Mummy, but I do hope that it is quite better by now, and that you are feeling fine again. I was so pleased to get your letter & so was Aunt Muriel, but we were both sorry about your cold & that you had been having cold weather again. Ever since I came to Long Beach the weather has been wonderful, with continuous sunshine until last night there was very heavy rain, & this morning it was dull, but is already clearing. I am getting quite brown, but I’m not trying to get tanned as I don’t want to get sore, and one day last week the sea was so warm that I stayed in much longer than I realized & got quite red, so since then I have been careful.

I am sleeping at Mona’s house now, but have most of my meals at Marguerite’s. I really haven’t done much at all – we have bathed in the sea about 3 times, & once in the canal, & most of our meals we eat on the porch. Last Wednesday I went into New York & met Frances Kaya, who was staying there for a few days & we had quite a nice afternoon shopping and gossiping and having tea. On Thursday evening some neighbours of Marg’s, Mr. & Mrs. Schwab, took me out a drive in the evening & to visit some friends of theirs, then Friday was Independence Day & everyone had a holiday. Margs invited Hugh Brown down for the day & he came in the afternoon & we all went to the beach & bathed. In the evening I was very keen to see fireworks so Hugh, Monie, Owen, Aunt Muriel & I drove to Jones Beach where there is usually a beautiful display, only to find that there wasn’t even the smallest sparkler! Hugh stayed at Margs’ overnight & next day drove me up to Connecticut to see Til & we had a lovely day. Unfortunately no one but Grandma was in when we arrived, but we had a nice time with her & the others came back later & we all had supper outside.

Sunday was both Aunt Ettie’s birthday & Margs and Bill’s anniversary, so there was quite a celebration. We all had dinner at Aunt Ettie’s, but didn’t let her do any work. Margs & the others gave her a dress & I gave her a pair of slippers & Margs some flowers. In the afternoon Margs & Bill had some of the neighbours in for wine & cake, then in the evening we all had supper in the garden – I thought it was quite chilly, but all the others laughed at me! Margs is very busy helping with a Church Fair which is tomorrow, & is going to be in charge of the Children’s Fish Pond, so I have been wrapping little packets for her. On Wednesday 16th I go up to Connecticut again & Lois will be there too, & on 18th we drive back to Toledo. I will stay there about 2 weeks to pack & then come back here before sailing.

Lots of love from

Cynthia.

June 23 1947

Monday 23rd June. 1947.

Dearest Mummy & Daddy,

This is just the loveliest place and I am having a wonderful time – at last the weather has become summery and I’ve spent the whole day out of doors. Til & Grandma & I set out in the car last Monday morning at 8 o’clock & drove 450 miles that day to Harrisburg. It was a nice sunny day, but not too hot, & we got on fine- I drove about 50 miles in the afternoon, & about 50 more in the evening, so it broke the monotony for Til & helped to give her a little rest. We went via Pittsburgh, & between that city & Harrisburg we were on a wonderful new 4-lane highway called the Pennsylvania Turnpike that goes for about 160 miles straight through the Allegheny Mountains. You pay a toll to use it because it is so much quicker & it is really marvellous because there are no crossroads or intersections, no houses or built up areas, only petrol stations & restaurants here & there & tunnels (6 of them) that go right through the mountains. We entered the highway at about 4, & then had dinner at a restaurant called Midway, & of course had to go on until we had finished as there are no hotels or anything along the road. By the time we got to Harrisburg we were glad to stop & spent the night in a very nice Tourist House. Next day we only had 250 miles to go, but the roads had a great deal of traffic and were mostly narrower & more winding so we didn’t get on so quickly. We didn’t go into N.Y. but skirted around & went across the Hudson by Bear Mountain Bridge, which was lovely scenery- in fact the whole way with the mountainous scenery was beautiful.

We arrived here about 6 o’clock on Tuesday & I fell in love with the place at once. Connecticut itself is lovely, with wooded hills & little towns & a very country look about it, & Poco just fits in. You drive off the road, bordered with little low grey stone walls, along a little lane through the woods, & there in a hollow amongst the trees sits the little white house. It looks so sweet, just like a house in a fairy tale because there is no proper garden or fences or anything, you just walk out of the house into the woods, & here & there are flowers growing in little clumps under the trees, or a rose bush growing up a rock, and the birds singing all the while. There are 4 acres of land- hills and valleys, wooded, & a ridge from which you get a beautiful view of the other hills. Til’s sister, C’Zelma, is the one who has been so ill- her face is still partially paralyzed, & she is still weak & has to rest a lot, but she is much better- her friend who lives with her is Em Smith (from Kentucky) & they both used to teach music, but since C’Zelma’s illness they have given it up, & are going to spend winters with Grandma in Alabama growing nuts, & summers up here. I like them all very, very much- Grandma too – they are fun & like me & are awfully nice to me. We have a nice time just doing as we like- Til & I go into the little town Danbury sometimes in the mornings, & I have bought a pair of dungarees to mess about in! In the afternoon, the ladies rest & I sit under the trees & just love it, then we sometimes go for a drive. One day we took our supper down & ate it by the sea, & twice we have cooked lunch outside on the grill under the trees – I made the charcoal fire & cooked the hamburgers on it!

Til & I don’t sleep in the bigger house as it only has 2 bedrooms, but there is what they called the Little House – just 2 rooms, one with twin beds in & the other with a piano etc. that Em used for teaching, & we sleep there & it’s fun. On Wed. Til & I are going to New York, & we are going to a theatre matinee to see an opera that one of C’Z’s & Em’s friends is in (a new one) & then we are going to spend the night & shop next day & go to “Great Expectations”. Then Til is returning here & I’m going to Long Beach. I do hope that you are both well & that the weather is good – I wish you were having a holiday in a nice place like this too-

With lots of love from Cynthia.

June 15 1947

15th June. 1947.

Dearest little Momma,

Don’t you like my cunning little cards? I got them in Toronto, & think they are sweet as well as being nice to write to people to whom I don’t have much to say! They all have different pictures on, but I thought you would like this one!

Thank you very much for your nice letter I got last week. I am glad that you think Nan’s presents are nice & I do hope everything arrives safely. I got the last of the parcels off this week & thought I was all done & then I got a $10 bill from Pam asking me to get some other things, so I’ll have to begin again! But I’m waiting till I come back to Toledo. I went to the bank on Wed. & paid my passage & took out all my money- some in Traveller’s cheques. I have about $200- $300 left so I should be all right. It’s a good job I have nice relatives & friends to go to tho’ & don’t have to pay hotel bills!

I was very amused at your adventures with the Derby & the blue horse – I don’t think your dreams are very prophetic somehow! Maybe when I get back to Cambridge I will go & visit Mary & Bill & see one of the big races is one day – it would be fun, but I’m just no good at betting or gambling – I’m always sure I’ll lose & I do!

I forgot to tell you that on Wed. after visiting the bank I went & bought a pair of white shoes, a pink & black cotton dress & a black straw hat! So that should end my shopping spree – I certainly seem to have been having one lately!

We are quite crowded at 4229 Berwick this weekend- Til, Lois & me & Bill & Grandma. Grandma is in my room, I am in Lois’, Lois is with Til in hers, & Bill is on the sofa in Lois’ study! Grandma thinks I am nice! She is nice too I think! Grandma made us laugh though, because she says I’ve made a different girl of Lois – she is so much brighter since I came! Til says that it’s because usually her relatives overwhelm Lois & this time she has my support! Lois & Bill are getting on fine this time though & I am so pleased- it is such a shame she has to work at the airport – it doesn’t seem right to be going away & leaving her behind. Til is driving of course & maybe I will help her a little- I drove Lois’ beautiful convertible last week & felt very proud of myself!

Did I tell you that I went to Church last Sunday? I read that the King said it was to be a National Day of Prayer in England, so I thought I would do my little bit too & I got up early & went to Early Service. You don’t mention anything about it so perhaps I got the wrong day, but anyway the intention was right!

Bill is flying back to Florida on Mon. or Tues. & Lois is staying here alone. She will come in the train to Conn. about the 20th July & will drive Til & me back again. I haven’t heard anything from Margs or any of them, but I am sure it will be all right. I’m not bothering to give you C’Zelma’s address because I’ll be only there a week & I expect you will write straight to Curly St. Well, I think that I have covered all the available space in my little letter – my love to the ladies at the Bee & all my friends, – and a kiss for you like the little bunnies!

Lots of love from

Cyn

June 14 1947

P. S. Thank you for your letter, Mummy.

14th June. 1947.

Dearest Mummy and Daddy,

My school days in America are over! It hardly seems possible that it can have gone so quickly, but while in some ways I’m pleased the teaching is finished, in others I’m sorry because I have grown fond of the students and like most of the teachers very much, so I was very sorry to say goodbye to them.

On Monday and Tuesday we had exams, and of course they turned out to be the two hottest days we’ve had, so everyone just sweltered. The students didn’t come to school after those days, so on Tuesday I said goodbye to them over the broadcasting system in the morning, and during the day I had a constant stream popping in to say goodbye & promise to write to me! I think I told you about getting a very pretty pin from one of my classes, and another one gave me a lovely white corsage on Monday, and a third one gave me a string of pink beads and a hankie. I also had a bottle of cologne from one little girl and a hankie from another, so I was quite overwhelmed.

On Tuesday I went home with Mary Bargman after school and had dinner with her & one of Marie Stoll’s friends’ Olive, who is going to meet her when she arrives in New York, and maybe will arrange for me to meet her. By the way, I had a letter from Anne this week saying that she will meet me in Southampton when I arrive – isn’t that nice of her?

The rest of the week we had for marking exams, clearing up, making upgrade cards etc. and so I had a busy time leaving everything Beautiful for Miss Stoll! I left her a little Union Jack hanging up in her room to remember me by! On Wed. the staff had a luncheon in my honour at school, and it was a lovely luncheon, but I was so overcome that I couldn’t eat a thing! Mr. Nauts made a speech and they gave me two beautiful presents – they had planned to give me a scent spray from the DeVilbiss Company in Toledo (it’s the founder that the school’s named after) because of the association, but when they went there the Co. wouldn’t sell them one, but insisted on giving them the best one they had for me! It is a kind of gold, crackle glass & very fascinating – and so after that they went and bought me a very pretty silver & diamanté brooch, so I did very well. I made a little speech & thanked everyone & told them I was sorry to go & ended up by using all the English expressions they’d teased me about & making them laugh- & afterwards so many people said I’d made them weep they were so sorry I was going. Mr. Nauts also said in his speech that anytime I wanted to come back & teach at DeV. they would be delighted to have me. Wasn’t it sweet of them?

On Thursday I didn’t do anything much, but on Friday I went to the Graduation of the Senior Class. The Auditorium isn’t big enough for all the students & their parents, so it is held in a neighbouring cinema. There were about 600 students graduating- the girls in white dresses & shoes, & all of them looking very pretty and sweet. It was a nice bright day, & after all the parents, teachers etc. were in, they filed in & sat down. Then we all sang the Nat. Anthem & a clergyman began with a prayer, & then there was more music, & a man gave a marvellous speech, then there were announcements of special awards & then the diplomas given to the students. It was very nice & I was very pleased to have seen it. Afterwards I went to a luncheon given by the Home Ec teachers of the City for me & they gave me a lovely silk nightie so everyone was more than kind to me.

On Friday evening Till’s mother came from her sister’s in Munro & is staying until Monday when Til & she & I drive to Connecticut. We will arrive on Tuesday & I’ll be there a week before going to Long Island for about a month. The weather has been awful today- cold as can be & yesterday evening we had a terrific rain storm which flooded the streets- we drove with the water up to the lights of the car! It went down quickly though.

Hope you are both well-

Lots of love from Cynthia.